


Spiders From Mars

by akamine_chan



Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_northernnews, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-30
Updated: 2008-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-02 12:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray has mastered the art of duct tape and NASA loves him for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spiders From Mars

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LiveJournal community ds_northernnews
> 
> Many, many thanks to my lovely betas Luzula and Leafy22 who did a wonderful job wrangling my confusing verb tenses and at times baffling sentence structure. Without these two this story would not be as good as it is. That said, all remaining mistakes are mine. There are more research-related notes at the end of the story, if you're interested...
> 
> Prompt: 21. [ Scientists to test space suits, rovers on Nunavut's Mars-like crater](http://www.cbc.ca/technology/story/2008/02/19/nunavut-mars.html)

Every summer, NASA loves Ray.

A surprise, really. He never would have thought he'd have something to offer _rocket scientists_ but it turns out that rocket scientists aren't terribly grounded in reality. Especially the unique realities of living and working in the high Arctic.

They can calculate how to get from the earth to the moon on the back of a napkin _(Serviette, Ray, says the Fraser-voice in his head)_, but they can't figure out how to fix the diesel genny when it breaks down. _(In this case, replacing the shutoff solenoid.)_ Rocket scientists can't figure out what to do when the plumbing stops working or how to improvise an instrument stand when the really expensive one they bought breaks.

Ray can do all of this, and more. Ray has mastered the art of duct tape and NASA loves him for it. In return he gets paid a lot of money to do this job two months out of the year and he's even got a cool job title that's printed on his business cards: _Chief Mechanic and Troubleshooter_. He had tried to get them to put head bottle washer on there, as well, but the boss had nixed that one with a laugh.

Last summer he'd been helping brainstorm ideas for an all-terrain Mars vehicle. That's the whole point of all this research, is to find ways to adapt to living on Mars. The climate and terrain is similar enough, that if they can work out the kinks, they'll be more prepared when they actually get there.

Sometime he even gets to kick people in the head, usually when cabin fever strikes and someone tries to go running off into the wild blue yonder screaming about aliens and monsters and stuff. Well, okay, maybe he doesn't actually kick them in the head. Maybe he just shoots them with the tranquilizer gun and sits on them until they can be airlifted back to civilization.

So Ray spends two months every summer at Haughton Crater on Devon Island, over a thousand miles northeast of their cabin at Inuvik. Which is a good thing, spending some time away from Fraser. Otherwise their usual fighting and sniping and bitching at each other after a long winter's enforced closeness would be much worse.

Over this winter, their friendship has been strained and Ray can't figure out what he's done wrong. Or is doing wrong. And he hates that—absolutely hates that feeling of something precious slipping through his fingers and not being able to do a damn thing about it. He'd felt that way through the last three years of his marriage and he doesn't think he can do that again, with Fraser this time.

So this year, he packs and wonders if he'll have to find another place to live when the field season at the crater is over. Should he stay in Canada at all, if he's not friends with Fraser anymore? Their friendship, their duet, was the main reason he stayed up here after their adventure to find the Hand of Franklin, and without that friendship, he might as well go back to his crappy life in Chicago.

He's done a good job of hiding his more-than-buddies feelings for Fraser in his heart, keeping things comfortable and casual and platonic. Fraser's friendship was the best thing that had ever happened to him and he isn't willing to risk it for anything. Not that Ray thinks Fraser would run off screaming into the night. He'd probably be totally cool with it, with a calm "No, thank you, Ray, I'm not interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with you." But it would break Ray's heart to have that last hope destroyed and he just isn't strong enough or brave enough to risk it.

Instead, he tucks his longing behind their friendship, keeping his hands mostly to himself, not letting them wander past friends into something more. He forces his mind to stay on the straight and narrow and out of the gutter, absolutely forbidding himself to think of Fraser naked or of Fraser's blunt hands on Ray's body, touching, stroking, teasing. He saves that for late nights when he's alone in the cabin, when Fraser's out on patrol and won't hear the desperate cries that he tries to bite back but can't, touching himself and wishing it was Fraser.

* * *

When Fraser gets home, Ray's almost finished with his packing. In a couple of days he's got to catch a plane to Vancouver for orientation meetings, and then it's a long ride on the New York Air National Guard's C-130 to Devon Island. He tries to get most of his packing done early, otherwise he's liable to forget something important, like his toothbrush. He spent his first summer season brushing his teeth with his finger because he forgot his toothbrush.

But now, if there's one thing working for NASA has taught Ray it's how to be organized—which is just as well, really. It's impossible to be messy when living at the research site. There'd be an uprising and he'd get lynched if he weren't as tidy as everyone else, genny-repair skills be damned. Because putting things away where they belong means you always know where things are, which can be crucial in an emergency. So, over time, Ray's learned to be neat. Of course, being thrown into snow drifts left over from winter by his co-workers has helped with his memory retention.

Fraser takes one look at the pile of duffel bags by the door and a frown settles on his face. Ray wonders what he's done _now_, but knows that if he asks, Fraser will just shake his head and change the subject. He used to call that Deflection Technique #32 in his head, but that's stopped being so funny this winter because not only does Fraser have a Technique #32, he has a Technique # 1 through Technique #31 as well and has used all of them on Ray over the past few months.

Instead, Ray bites his tongue and goes into their small kitchen, heating up the caribou stew he pulled out of the freezer earlier. While he's doing that, Fraser goes into his bedroom to change out of the uniform and into his off-duty clothes. Ray feeds Dief, and sets the table. He puts out a salad that he managed to convince Joan at the general store to special order the vegetables for, hoping that Fraser will be pleased and maybe it'll be a peace offering between them. For whatever it is that Ray has done.

Fraser comes back out just as Ray has put the last of the food onto the table and is pouring hot water into Fraser's tea cup. They sit down, the silence between them growing larger and more stifling. Ray feels a sense of foreboding, like something really bad is going to happen. This is the part of the movie where the alien bursts out of someone's chest and goes on a killing rampage.

What happens next is even more surprising than chest-bursting aliens. Fraser takes a mouthful of his stew and swallows it, then picks up his bowl, stands and chucks it across the room as hard as he can. It crashes against the wall, porcelain shards and caribou chunks flying everywhere. Dief is _gone_, out the wolf door quick as a flash. Ray has teleported himself across the room, his back against a wall and wondering what the _fuck_ has happened to the real Fraser. Because this man is not him, this man is a stranger.

"Are you coming back to Inuvik in August?"

Those are the first words that Fraser has said to him in days and Ray shakes his head to clear out his ears, because the words make no sense. Unless Fraser doesn't want him here anymore. Maybe somehow Fraser's figured out how Ray feels, maybe Ray's fucked up somewhere along the line and Fraser's uncomfortable with _someone_ like Ray in his home. Their home.

In the end, it doesn't really matter. Ray has to figure out how to fix this before it gets any worse. He _cannot_ lose what he's worked so hard to build—this life with Fraser and Dief—this weirdly perfect _family_.

He approaches Fraser carefully, slowly, like Fraser's a wild animal about to attack. A grizzly bear or something. Something big and broad and strong. He crouches down next to Fraser's chair and grabs a big hand, tugging gently to make Fraser sit back down. He looks up into Fraser's face and notices how tired and stressed he looks. Ray wonders if he looks like that, too.

He can feel Fraser trembling and wonders how they got to this point.

"Fraser," Ray says softly, "talk to me, buddy." Finding courage from somewhere, he reaches up and strokes his thumb across Fraser's cheekbone while his other hand settles on Fraser's knee. "This has gone too far. We're strangers to each other and I hate it. Tell me what I've done wrong so I can fix it."

"Wrong?" Fraser meets his eyes and his haunted look terrifies Ray like nothing has ever scared him before. "It's not you, Ray. It's _me_. I'm the one who's perverted our friendship, who wants more than you're willing to give, who's—" Fraser voice broke and he gasped for air. "I don't deserve your friendship."

Looking over Ray's shoulder, Fraser continues to babble, sounding desperately unhappy. "I've been waiting all winter for you to leave, Ray. I thought you didn't want to be friends anymore—didn't want to be friends with someone who wants you like I do. You've been restless and you stopped touching me like you used to and you're _finally_ over Stella. I thought maybe you'd go back to Chicago and find someone to be with, some who'd love you the way you deserved to be loved, not like Stella, who didn't love you the way you should have been—"

Ray shuts Fraser up in the simplest way possible, by kissing him. Ray makes it the softest, sweetest kiss he can, trying to put all of his love into this one kiss. He has a feeling that this is the only way he can convince Fraser of how he feels, how he's always felt. It only takes a moment before Fraser responds passionately, kissing Ray like he's starving for it. Ray pulls back, eventually, only to nuzzle at Fraser's ear. "You're my best friend, Fraser, and I love you. But this is why we've got to learn to talk to each other."

Ray smiles at Fraser, relieved. Two stubborn, stupid people, each sure that the other wasn't interested in a relationship—what a comedy of fuck-ups. He kisses Fraser again and grins. "God, we're such idiots. It's like that story—the story with the hair."

"The story with the hair?" Puzzled, Fraser looks at Ray.

"Yeah, yeah—the story where the woman sells her hair to buy the guy a chain for his pocket watch while the guy sells the watch to buy the woman some hair combs. The Madge and Guy story..."

Fraser snorts in surprise. "The Madge and Guy story? Really, Ray, that's just silly." He pets Ray's spiky hair. "O. Henry is rolling over in his grave."

Ray's only answer is a wide smile and another kiss.

-fin-

* * *

Further research notes:

In reality, Arctic and Antarctic researchers are not anywhere near useless. Because of the rigors of the environment and the inability to easily obtain supplies or replacement parts, researchers in these remote areas are truly jack-of-all-trades - innovators and tinkerers and fix-it-uppers of the highest order. I have nothing but the greatest admiration for them.

I really wanted to use the idea of the Haughton Crater to show off my geology background, but Fraser and Ray didn't want to talk about rocks. At all. Damn them, 'cause the geology there is really interesting...

Some links of interest:

[The Haughton-Mars Project](http://www.arctic-mars.org/about/crater.html)

[The Mars Institute](http://www.marsinstitute.info/)

[HMP Research Station Flickr](http://www.flickr.com/photos/hmpresearchstation/)

The Star had some interesting articles on Arctic research: [here](http://www.thestar.com/sciencetech/article/196435) and [here](http://www.thestar.com/sciencetech/article/196413).


End file.
